


i want you here.

by kxsumis



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, M/M, Parental Issues, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-29
Updated: 2016-09-28
Packaged: 2018-08-18 11:15:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8160212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kxsumis/pseuds/kxsumis
Summary: “Why are you staring at me?” The boy asked, pulling one earbud out. It made Lance jump, and he looked around to see if there was anyone else the other could be talking to. “I wasn’t staring,” he said finally. Was he?
---
Lance visits his grandmother for the summer and meets a boy.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I dont really know what this is hahahAHAH  
> I started working on this a while ago and finally thought it was acceptable to post.  
> I hope you enjoy it! If you have any questions/comments/just wanna chat, remember to leave a comment and/or contact me on twitter or tumblr! The links are in my ao3 bio.  
> I dont really know when ill be updating this - i guess whenever i find the time!  
> Thank you for reading. :-)

This summer was gonna be fucking fantastic, Lance was sure of it. Hunk, his best friend, had landed a job at the arcade, which meant Lance had the PERFECT opportunity to join him at work for “moral support”, which actually meant scoping the place out for hot chicks. Lance would’ve been happier working at the pool where he’d originally applied for a job as a lifeguard, but was quickly turned down when he hit his head on the side of the pool while trying to swim freestyle, which earned him a mild concussion. Oh well, second best was better than nothing, right?

Anyways, YES! Summer was gonna be totally chill. The weather was hot, the sun was shining, school was out - how could anything possibly ruin this?

“You’re going to California for the summer,” Lance’s signature grin faded as his mother bluntly crushed his dreams after calling him downstairs before dinner

“Wait, what?!” Lance demanded, his eyes wide. “Why would I go to California for the summer?”

“We have family in California, Lance,” Lance’s mother rolled her eyes, turning to the sink to wash her hands. “You know that.”  
“I know, but,” Lance could feel himself starting to panic; internally searching for ways to talk his mother out of making him do this. “We have family here, too! Like, Aunt Laura down the street? Or cousin Santiago who lives across town and works at Walgreens! I could totally chill with them! No need to go all the way to California.”

Lance’s mother laughed, and he knew she was rolling her eyes yet again. “Different family, like your _Abuela_? It’s been years since you’ve seen her.”

Lance groaned, flopping down onto one of the bar stools surrounding the kitchen’s island. “Abuelita hates me…”  
“She doesn’t hate you,” Lance’s mom sighed, turning to dry her hands off on the dish towel hanging lazily on the oven’s handle. “She just doesn’t put up with when you act like a brat.”

“Mom, I _never_ act like a brat!” Lance insisted.

Lance’s mom raised an eyebrow, but didn’t say anything as she walked across the kitchen to continue preparing dinner. “Lance, you’re going, and it’s final. You’re leaving on Friday.”

“Friday?!” Lance exclaimed. “That’s in _two days_!”

“It is,” Lance’s mom turned to face him, her dark, brown hair pulled into a messy bun, some loose strands falling into her face. “So you’d better start packing, yeah?”

  


“California? Dude, that’s pretty cool!” Hunk said enthusiastically into his phone, which made Lance even more angry.

Going to California for the summer was not a good thing. Lance’s summer was supposed to be awesome, and he was supposed to be in Arizona, surrounded by all of his (two) friends, not in California with his mean Abuela and people he didn’t even know.

“No, not cool, man!” Lance leaned back in his chair sitting in front of his desk. He’d been playing so much Overwatch he didn’t even want to admit how long he’d been sitting there. He rubbed his forehead with his free hand. “This is, like, code red abort mission not cool.”  
“But, California could be fun,” Hunk tried. “There’s...uh...beaches?”

Lance considered this. The beach was an even better attraction to run into some potential partners, but still. He was feeling too angsty to consider anything that could make this bullshit into a silver lining.

“Yeah, I guess beaches are cool, but most of them are super trashy in California!” (He wasn’t sure if that was true or not: the last time that he went to California, he was super young, so most of his memories were blurry. At this point, he was just trying to get Hunk to agree that his situation was horrible.)

“Really? Man, that sucks.” Hunk said, sighing into the phone. “But I’m sure you’ll be able to make the best of it. You’re going to Santa Cruz, right?”

Lance nodded, spinning around in his chair. “Yep.”

“Well, isn’t there that one place with all the cool rides there?”

Lance crinkled his nose. The place was pretty cool, but he was still too pissed to admit anything was good about the situation. “The rides are pretty lame, actually.”

“I’ve seen lots of pictures of the place. It looks kinda fun!”

Lance sighed. “Maybe if you’re twelve.”

“Look, as much as I want to comfort you through your little temper tantrum, Thirteen Going on Thirty is on,” Hunk replied, and Lance knew he couldn’t compete with such a great movie. (Though, he’d never admit it was great, at least not to Hunk.)

“You wound me, Hunk,” Lance gasped dramatically, bringing his hand to clench at his shirt even though the other boy couldn’t even see him. “Okay, go watch Jennifer Garner fuck up her life and leave your best friend to rot.”

Hunk laughed on the other end, and it was enough to make Lance feel just a bit less shitty. Hunk always had that effect on people, even when he wasn’t trying. He was always willing to help others, always trying to be the strong one for everyone even though it was hard. Lance was proud to call Hunk his best friend.

“It’s just a couple of months, Lance,” Hunk said, and Lance could hear his smile through the phone. “I’ll talk to you later.”

And with that, the phone call had ended and the line had gone silent. Lance sighed softly, setting his phone down on his desk. He stared at his laptop, the Overwatch main menu still open and waiting for him to make a choice.

It was just a few months, he could do this.

  


_The First Day_

He couldn’t do this. As his mother sent him off at the airport, he felt like he did the first day of school, holding onto her hand and refusing to let go.

The plane ride was pretty painless and short. Arizona wasn’t that far away from California, but due to Lance’s sour mood towards his travels, it seemed like lightyears away from his own home. There was a baby crying a few rows down from Lance’s, but luckily he came prepared with his headphones and iPod. There was no WiFi on the plane-well, there was, but Lance’s mom didn’t think it necessary to buy it for the plane ride-so all Lance could really do was look out the window and focus on his music.

Despite his bad mood, the view was admittedly gorgeous. The sun was still high in the sky, his view cloudless, bright, blue. He rested his head against the window with a soft sigh, closing his eyes as the loud music played through his earbuds.

A while later, he woke up when the plane hit some turbulence. His first thought: he was dying, and the aircraft was hurtling towards earth. Then he looked around and realized that the plane was only beginning its descent to land.

Once it did so, Lance reached into the overhead compartment above his row to retrieve his duffel bag full of clothes and anything else he needed for the summer. People walking down the aisle pushed passed him irritably, which only pissed him off more. Once he’d grabbed his bag, he held it at his side, walking through the airport.

It was a bigger airport than the one he’d been to in Arizona - he was eleven, and he was waiting with his mom and dad to pick up his big sister for her Christmas break from university. This airport was big and bustling with people who all looked so important and busy. Some guys looked like secret agents, with their expensive suits and sunglasses, walking hurriedly down the corridors with their cell phones in hand.

Lance looked around for his grandma once he’d reached the exit of his terminal, and sighed softly when she came into sight. She looked  just like how he remembered her: the corners of her lips turned down as if she had a natural frown. Her grey and black hair was a messy bun on top of her head, some loose strands falling into her face. Her glasses rested on her nose about halfway down, so it looked like she was looking over the lenses rather than through them. It only made her look more judgey than usual.

Lance swallowed his nervousness and made his way over to her, surprised when he saw a smile upturn her lips. She hurried over to him, pulling him into a rather tight and intense hug.

“Oof-!” Lance gasped, hugging back. “Hola, Abuela..”

“It’s been such a long time,” She replied, pulling away, holding Lance by his forearms. “You’re so tall, mijo..How old are you now?”   
“Seventeen,” Lance replied proudly, grinning.

“The last time I saw you, you were this big,” She said, moving her hand down by her waist, her palm facing the floor.

Lance shrugged nervously. He didn’t want to straight-up say he didn’t like visiting California anymore. “I’ve been super busy.” He said softly.

Lance’s abuela studied him for a moment before chuckling. “Sure. Let’s get going.” With that, she turned on her heel and was heading out of the airport, Lance hurrying after her.

The car ride was comfortably silent. The sun was finally setting below the horizon, the sky was bright with orange and yellow hues, casting a deep, golden light on the world. Santa Cruz was a cute city, filled with authentic restaurants and cute shops. Lance reminded himself to take a walk to a few of them.

His Abuela’s neighborhood looked like something out of a movie; the street itself wasn’t too long. The pavement was worn down and sandy, a few cars parked on either side of the street. It broke off at the end to a sandy patch with a simple bench in the middle. Worn down, wooden stairs led down to the beach.

Abuela’s house was simple. It was a small, deep red beach house. The front yard was fairly large, with a fire pit off to the side and a small dining area on the patio. Lance didn’t remember anything about it, but the striking red color of the house was overwhelmingly familiar.

Lance carried his duffel bag inside after his Abuela climbed out of her car, leading him inside.

The sky had turned to a light purple color, and the chilly, summer wind was whipping his hair around his face. As his Abuela walked into the house, Lance stopped to take in his surroundings. The neighborhood was quiet besides the soft winds and the sound of the ocean only a walk away from him. He looked along the houses. Each of them were different; modern and old looking, dark and bright.

His eyes wandered to the house neighboring his Abuela’s, and he had to do a double take.

There was a boy sitting on the roof. His long, dark hair was tied back into a short ponytail. He seemed to have a pretty comfortable set-up; he sat on top of a blanket, earbuds on as he peered at the sky with what looked like a telescope.

Lance tilted his head to the side. There were barely even stars out yet. The sky was painted carefully with purples and pinks, soon fading into intense oranges and golds as it kissed the horizon.

One of the boy’s legs hung off of the side of the roof lazily.

“Why are you staring at me?” The boy asked, pulling one earbud out.

It made Lance jump, and he looked around to see if there was anyone else the other could be talking to. “I wasn’t staring,” he said finally. Was he?

“Yes, you were.” The boy still hadn’t turned to face Lance, and he was obviously really weird.

“I don’t know,” Lance offered weakly, mind searching for some kind of witty remark. He was too flustered to think of one.

“I see,” The other boy replied, obviously amused. It pissed Lance off. Finally, he turned to study Lance, looking him up and down. He couldn’t tell if he was being judgemental, or if his face was just naturally so cold and unamused looking. Lance wanted to ask what his problem was, but the world was too silent, too awkward. The only noise breaking through it all was the distant cawing of seagulls and the soft crashing of waves.

A gentle breeze picked up, blowing the other boy’s lose strands of hair across his face. He lazily pushed them away.

“I’m Keith.” He said simply, before looking back at his telescope, adjusting the lense. Keith really wasn’t much of a conversationalist.

“Lance,” Lance said hesitantly, trying to look as cool as he could while holding a huge duffel bag with Transformers all over it.   
“Where are you from?” Keith asked. Lance was already irritated by this guy. He was the stereotypical weird, nosey neighbor, like in the movies.

“Arizona,” Lance replied with the same hesitance.

“Huh,” Keith said.

He didn’t say anything after that, silently studying the sky like Lance wasn’t even there anymore. He was getting more and more pissed by the second, but he managed to walk past Keith’s house with an eyeroll.

The inside of his Abuela’s house was just as warm and inviting as he remembered. It smelled like her cooking, the aroma flooding from the kitchen into the rooms. His bad mood quickly left him.

Lance made his way into the kitchen, through the small door off to the side that led to the upstairs, a sudden sleepiness washing over his body. He set his things down beside the creaky, wooden staircase before plopping down onto his bed. It was a twin, with a simple, light quilt laid neatly on top. An orange glow shone through the windows, the last rays of sun lighting the room. He closed his eyes. He wondered if Keith was still outside, and then he wondered why he cared.

Deep sleep consumed him, the soft sounds of the waves crashing into the sand singing their own lullaby, in their own language in the distance.


End file.
